


A Knight Upon A White Horse

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood Friends, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, First Meetings, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: The royal family of Rohan is called to Gondor on urgent business.There, young love blossoms, old bonds begin to break, and a sorrow stricken little Lord wishes for a better life and a better world.





	A Knight Upon A White Horse

**Author's Note:**

> There will be several parts to this story so stay tuned!

“Why are we going to the white city anyway?” Éowyn inquired of her brother and cousin as they rode on their own ponies close behind the King and in front of the other men of his household. Such was their importance, and even though their ponies were smaller than the horses that tailed them, Théoden preferred to keep the children close to him when traveling. Wild men hunted in the lands that divided Rohan from Gondor, after all. It was not a journey void of danger. 

“Haven’t you learned anything yet, Èowyn?” Théodred scoffed at his little cousin, who had just passed her seventh birthday only three weeks before. “The people of Gondor are our friends and closest allies.” 

“Their ruling Steward has long been under good terms with our uncle.” Éomer added. “But If their alliance is to continue, The King must often come forth to Minis Tirith to meet with Lord Denethor.” 

“But why?” Éowyn huffed, failing to understand the reasoning for this long trek across such foreboding country. It wasn’t really that she was annoyed by their venture in itself, however. She did enjoy this chance to ride out amongst the men and to camp out beneath the open sky and stars when night fell over their company. That much she could be thankful for, but she knew full well what it was that awaited her behind the gates of Minis Tirith. 

Boredom.

Théoden welcomed and even encouraged her spirit and playful nature at home in the Golden Hall of Meduseld, but in Gondor, he would expect her to behave as any proper lady would, and proper ladies were boring.

Of course, Éomer and Théodred would not be bored during their stay in Minis Tirith. For Lord Denethor had sons for them to play with. Sons that would no doubt lead their friends of Rohan through the city and find exciting adventures of their own while the King and Steward had their council. 

Éowyn, meanwhile, would be trapped indoors with only her nursemaid to talk to, and a basket filled with stitch work tools to ‘entertain’ her. 

“Stop whining, Wyn.” Éomer told his sister. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.” 

“Fun for you.” Éowyn muttered bitterly as they rode on.

When they reached the city later that evening, a host of guards draped in black and silver awaited their arrival at the gates. The King and his company were escorted through the seven rings of Minis Tirith, and finally arrived at the courtyard of the Citadel, where Lord Denethor, Ruling Steward of Gondor, was waiting to greet his honored guests. 

Beside the greying haired, black cloaked Lord stood his sons, Boromir, the elder, and Faramir, the younger.

“King Théoden, my Lord!” One of the Captains of Denethor’s guard introduced the King of Rohan. 

“I know who stands before me.” Denethor replied, as Théoden dismounted his horse and approached. 

“Lord Denethor.” He greeted his long time friend and ally. “My family and I are honored to be welcomed into your great city.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Denethor spoke with a wicked smirk sliding across his lips so quick that only Théoden himself could spot it. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Minis Tirith and to Gondor...Rooms have been prepared for you and your household in the tower, and my men shall see to it that your horses are properly stabled and cared for as well.”

“Wonderful.” Théoden nodded, turning to look at Hama and Gamling behind him. “Take the children.” He commanded his men. “Get them settled in. I’ll be along shortly.” 

“Boromir! Go along with them.” Denethor then commanded his eldest son. “Show King Théoden’s company to their chambers and see to it that their every need is taken care of.” 

“Yes, Father.” Boromir bowed before rushing to greet Théodred and Éomer, neither of whom he’d seen in almost a year now. 

Théoden looked down to the smaller boy that remained at his father’s side. Denethor looked down to him as well.

“Go along with the stablehands, Faramir.” The Steward commanded his youngest.

“Oh Father, can’t I please go with Boromir to the tower!” The child pleaded.

“You’ll do as I say!” Denethor growled. “Now go! You may join your brother once you’ve finished putting the horses away.” 

Faramir looked off to his elder brother and the two boys who were their friends. He wanted so desperately to go and greet them and talk to them and show them everything in the wonderful city he called home...but of course, that was Boromir’s job. His father had been very clear on that matter.

“Yes, father.” The small boy frowned as he wandered away to take the reigns of Éowyn’s pony and lead it off down the stony streets to wherever the other horses were being taken. 

Théoden frowned at Denethor. 

“That was most unkind of you.” He told the Steward. “He’s only a child.”

“A defiant child.” Denethor huffed. “Defiant children must learn to obey or be punished.” 

“He did nothing to warrant such a reprimanding.” Théoden argued, though Denethor remained unfazed by his complaints.

“I did not call you here to teach me how to raise my own sons, Théoden King.” He growled in his own defense.

“Then what exactly did you call upon me for?” Théoden inquired. “It must have been urgent. Your letter was most pressing.” 

“Urgent indeed.” Denethor agreed, placing his arm about the King’s shoulder. “Come, old friend. We shall take our supper in the throne room together. I’ve had a magnificent spread prepared for your visit, and the most excellent wine to be found this far South of Dale.”

“How very hospitable of you.” Théoden sighed, following Denethor from the courtyard and through the massive doors that led to the throne room.

....

“This is your room.” Boromir said to the young Prince and Lord as he led Theodred and Éomer up the stairs to the bedchamber they’d be sharing for the remainder of their visit. “Its a wonderful view from way up here.” He continued, pushing the door open and walking across the room to the windows that overlooked the city below and the vast Pelennor Fields beyond its gates.

“It’s lovely.” Theodred nodded, waiting for the servants to deliver all of his and Éomer’s things into the room before he spoke another word. “Your father has not grown gentler with age, I see.” He finally sighed to Boromir once the three were alone. 

“No.” Boromir frowned, closing the curtains to the window again. “He hasn’t. Poor Faramir...I know not why he bears the brunt of father’s ill temper but he does and there isn’t much I can do to stop it.”

“Has Faramir done something to make your father angry?” Éomer asked, quite confused as to why Denethor had behaved so monstrously towards his youngest son.

“Not a thing.” Boromir shook his head, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. “Though perhaps your family’s visit will lighten my Father’s heart for awhile. He might find some kindness for Faramir then. For awhile anyway. I fear that once you’ve gone, he will turn to his old habits. Only this time they’ll be worse.”

“Does he grieve so to see us leave the White City?” Theodred scoffed, sitting down next to Éomer on the bed. 

“He grieves when the King leaves the White City.” Boromir sighed deeply. “He does love your father so, Theodred.”

The Prince said not a word, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the three boys before an insistent knocking came at the chamber door. 

“My Prince! Mi’lord Éomer! Mi’lord!” 

“It’s Èowyn’s nursemaid.” Éomer said, jumping up from the mattress and hurrying to open the door for Waerdoina.

“Oh Mi’lord!” The plump old woman exclaimed when she saw the lad, her face fraught with worry. “Yer sister! She’s run away!” 

Boromir’s eyes widened when he heard this news. “Run away? The little Lady Éowyn?” He asked with great concern. “She’s far too young to be wondering the streets alone! We must find her!”

“Steady, my friend. Do not worry yourself.” Théodred chuckled as Éomer let out a put upon sigh. 

“She’s done this to us before.” He admitted to Boromir, looking back to Waerdoina then. “Do not fret, dear lady.” He assured the hysteric nurse. “I’ll find her and bring her back. I’m sure she hasn’t gone far.”

“Probably followed her pony down to the stables.” Théodred guessed. “I’d wager on it if I were a betting man.”

“Let us go then and search for her.” Boromir urged his friends on. “The night will soon be upon us and unsavory characters will wake to prowl the streets.” 

“I’d like to see any of unsavory character try and lay a hand on Éowyn.” Théodred smirked, following his cousin and Boromir out of the room at the White Tower’s peak. 

....

Faramir managed to lead his new charge down to the stables without much trouble. 

The little grey pony was a gentle soul and he seemed to enjoy Faramir’s company, as the boy had staid to be sure he was properly attended to.

“My father will be angry if I don’t treat the little Lady’s steed with great care.” He whispered to the kind eyed animal, who stood obediently in his stall while Faramir removed all of his tack then brushed him down. 

“I wish I knew your name, my friend.” The boy said then to the pony, gently scratching under his chin once he’d finished grooming him and cleaning his hooves. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I can’t even give you a proper thanks.” 

“He’s called Léofred.” A soft voice came from the door of the pony’s stall, and Faramir looked up to see the little Lady Éowyn staring at him with large blue eyes.

“Oh! My Lady...” Faramir bowed clumsily to her. “My apologies.” He offered then. “I didn’t see you there...What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

“No.” Eowyn shook her head. “I go wherever I want to when Uncle isn’t around. Waerdoina is kind but she isn’t very fast and doesn’t see very well so I can get away quickly.”

“Who’s Waerdoina?” Faramir asked.

“My nursemaid.” Eowyn muttered, climbing over the stall door and jumping down onto the hay covered floor to join Léofred and Faramir. 

“You should be careful, my lady.” Faramir suggested as he watched the girl do this. “You could fall. You could be hurt.”

“I don’t think so.” She huffed in return, walking up to her pony and feeding him a handful of grass that she had shoved into her dress earlier. “I’m a very good climber. Probably better than you.”

“Oh.” Faramir muttered simply, blushing as he looked down to his feet. He had never been spoken to by a lady like that before. Usually they were quiet and calm and very polite. 

“You don’t talk very much, do you?” She prodded at Faramir, gently stroking Léofred’s mane as she watched the older boy’s face turn red. 

“Huh?” Faramir swallowed hard and looked back up at her again, only to see the little Lady’s elder brother and their cousin come marching into the stables.

“Éowyn!” Éomer yelled at his sister, pulling open the door to Léofred’s stall and taking  
the girl by the arm.

“Éomer! Let go!” The Lady demanded, waving her other free fist at her brother before Théodred caught it and held it tight. 

“You’ve got poor Waerdoina worries sick, Éowyn.” The prince told his little cousin. “And my father would have turned over every stone on these streets if you were still missing once his meeting with Lord Denethor was done.”

“I just wanted to make sure Léofred was alright!” Éowyn protested. “Let me go!”

“No no no.” Éomer refused, pulling his sister away with his cousin’s help. “We need to get you back to the tower and into bed before Uncle sees you’re gone.”

Faramir watched with wide eyes as the two older boys drug Lady Éowyn away. 

“She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?” Boromir chuckled, leaning over the stall where his little brother still stood. Faramir hadn’t noticed him come in. He’d been too preoccupied with Éowyn.

“I thought she was lovely.” The boy said to his elder brother when he finally turned to face him.

“Oh?” Boromir smirked. “Perhaps she could be your bride one day, little brother? You seem to fancy her.”

“No I don’t!” Faramir insisted, his face getting red again as he gave Léofred one last pat then left the stall and locked the door behind him. 

Boromir only laughed and ruffled the boy’s sandy blonde hair. “I only jest.” He assured Faramir, offering his hand to his baby brother. “Come now. We need to get back to the Citadel. You should already be in bed.”

Faramir sighed and took Boromir’s hand, allowing his brother to lead him up the stony streets and back to their own bedchamber high in the White Tower of Ecthelion.


End file.
